Nice
by Ti'ana7
Summary: AU (based on the book) Inu/Kag, Present Time Kagome is a woman who doesn't like to hurt men's feelings in a relationship. So, she kills them to break it off. What happens when Inu-Yasha notices?


Disclaimer: This is my first Inu-Yasha fic, and as such, Inu-Yasha obviously can't belong to me. The basis of this story belongs to Jen Sacks and her book named NICE.

A Thank you already to my new and wonderful editor Rain! And also, I'd like to say: I don't live in the Tokyo area, not even Japan {not tellin' where} Soooo, there are bound to be some discrepancies about the culture/community/etc.

Nice 

Chapter 1

Kagome's View:

Damn it! I never should have done it in my house. Oh well, sometimes things like that can't be avoided, or more along the lines of foreseen.

I looked over at the man in bed beside me. Sesshoumaru was a well-built man, if not a little cold. Being as he is, or rather was, a CEO he's bound to be colder than most men. But he still was very charming. Details like that don't matter, though. The fact that drool was coming out of his mouth where he lay and falling onto my pristine white pillows that I had previously used to suffocate him does matter.

I got off the bed and walked over to my cosmetics kit since sorting the make up out seems to calm me for some strange reason. Lipstick especially. I glanced up at Sesshoumaru over the top of the case. Then, an idea struck me. I grabbed a darker red lipstick than I usually like to use, blue eyeliner with matching shadow, and a light flesh-colored blush and set to work.

  
When the police came around at 7:00 to ask all the occupants of my apartment whether they knew the man found dead outside of the building I was ready for them. I shook my head and politely answered no to all their questions and the police moved on to the next apartment.

Sesshoumaru's death was considered to be a homosexual slaying. What with living in Tokyo and all, what else would they think? With his make up, almost feminine good looks, and wearing nothing but boxers, what was the other option the police had to justify his death with?

I met Sesshoumaru a few weeks ago at a bar. We hit it off great; I didn't do anything too ditzy or stupid. He was excellent looking, in a girlish sort of way. We spent the night discussing anything from the television show on TV, to political points of view, to any random piece of conversation until he eventually asked for my phone number and a loose promise for a date later on.

The first date we went on was really nice. Just a simply middle-class dinner followed by a nice walk. Sesshoumaru was even so nice as to take me home, but not go in. It was a really classy move on his part. Something from the old world. I never actually asked how old he was. He reminded me of a college student with his body, but no CEO is 21.

We had a few other nice dates and a few good nights. I've never been with a man who had physique quite like that. He was good in bed. But what could I expect… he'd probably had to go through a few girls to get that way. Although, he did have this annoying habit of trying to look me in the eye during the act. He always directed my eyes towards his. It made me feel guilty whenever I was faking it. Good thing my friends told me a few tricks of the trade on how to avoid hurting men's feelings if a woman isn't getting it how she wants it.

Then the phone calls really started. One after another. Asking for dates, to do this, to do that. Argh, just so annoying! I know there's something wrong with me. I've never been really good at expressing my emotions to other people. As long as everyone else around me is fine, I am too. So, I couldn't just tell Sesshoumaru it wasn't working out on my end. He'd be too crest fallen, I could just image his face. 

So I killed him. A horrid thing to do, but it was the only way to get rid of him. He'd just walked into my apartment like it was his own. My personal space! And he hadn't even called! Just waltzed it! I had gotten so mad, especially when he asked me for a ride as if asking for a drink. After he'd had his fill (I hadn't had mine, just faked it), cuddled up to me, and had gone to sleep I shifted out of his embrace to look at him. I got on my hands and needs to peer down at him. I thought about how I wanted to avoid making him feel bad when I told him I wanted to break it off. Who knew what would happen? For all I knew, he'd go into depression! I wanted a way out, a way so that neither one of us would get hurt. Then, the idea came and I … suffocated him. He didn't even have a chance to put up a fight. When he finally woke up he was already oxygen deprived. He flailed for a few seconds before going limp. He was gone before he really had a chance. A pity. He drooled so now I have to wash the cases of my pillows.

I really felt no remorse when I closed the door on the police after they questioned me whether or not I knew the almost naked, make-up adorned, feminine looking, dead man lying in the middle of the sidewalk of my street. It really was Sesshoumaru's fault anyway.

Inu-Yasha's View:

With good eavesdropping equipment the key isn't necessarily how far away or how good the reception is or even the size of the machine, which can be fairly small, but rather how well it can distinguish between different noises. I always test new equipment out before I actually take it out on the field to make sure it works to my specifications. My favorite spots to test out eavesdropping gizmos are bars. Lots of different people in a small area.

On that particular night, I walked into a bar in upper Tokyo and already had my cassette player-sized equipment in the front of my coat pocket with the earplug hidden in my ear by my hair. I fiddled with the dials and tuned it to a man and woman talking at the counter. The man was about six foot two, long white hair with an almost feminine look to him. His eyes, unlike most of the men looking for women at bars, didn't roam around the room looking for better candidates. They were glued to the younger woman beside him. She had black hair with summer-sky blue eyes. Physically fit, from what I could see by her loose skirt and tank top. If I were to approximate a bust size I'd say 34C. Around maybe 25 years old. Amongst all the other girls in the bar, she seemed to stand out. She wasn't flashy or showy, but she just… seemed real.

He asked her for her number and a promise for a dinner on a later date to which he got a positive response to both. She turned to her other friends, a male and two females, and her composure quickly changed. She became more outgoing and less inhibited. I wonder why she didn't show her true colors to that man…

Around 11:30 her friends and her decided they'd had enough of the bar and quickly departed. I slipped out after her to see her hailing a cab. I flagged one down myself and told the driver to follow the one before it. The driver looked at me funny, but I showed him a healthy some of money and he followed without complain. Amazing what the human race does for money.

I wasn't surprised when I found out that they all lived around this area. The cab dropped off first one woman named Kaede {Yes! Kaede is YOUNG!!}, then a couple named Sango and Miroku. Then lastly, the woman of the conversation I had listened to, Kagome.

I decided to continue this exercise the next day. I don't know why. We're opposites, if I ever wanted to arrange a meeting between us, we'd never have anything to say to each other. It was just for practice, I guess.

I had left on an assignment for two weeks. And in that time I had not forgotten about the young woman I was shadowing. It was a bad idea to shadow her for no apparent reason so I was glad for the distraction of my newest case. I was now back and with nothing to distract my mind, I started up my exercise with the lady.

I was walking down her street at around 5:30 in the morning, to get a feel of her sleeping presence. The Madrid assignment had gone well, despite the haste with which I calculated an approach to kill the 'target'. The target had liked to speed, so move the mechanics of his car around and _Viola! _ Not even a body to dispose of. It should have taken my mind off her, but it didn't.

I was the first to see the body of the man so early in the morning. There was no one on the streets to find the body, although someone would eventually come out and spot it. I quickly checked out her apartment building in slight worry about her, but everything was quiet. I went back to find him again. The make-up disguised his face a little bit, but there was no mistaking it. It was the boy from the bar.

Odd. I had not been surprised when the leaders of my former agency, that officially didn't exist, tried to terminate my employment without resorting to a retirement plan. No democratic Russian official wanted my memoirs published in the post-Soviet world. Nor had I been surprised when three of my colleagues had turned up dead, supposed random muggings of the Russian streets. My former bosses were never very original. And most certainly I had not been surprised when all of my former bosses died by stroke, heart attack, drowning, or apparent suicide. I left a nice treat when I left the country didn't I? There is very little about death that surprises me anymore.

But … the death of the boy lying lifeless in the street did. I do not believe in coincidence. Do I believe in love at first sight?

I now felt I had to watch this girl. Either she was dangerous or… what? She was certainly no professional. I've never seen assassination like this. And I know assassination after twenty-five years of working in it. Perhaps… sheer natural talent? Or perhaps I was jumping to conclusions because, being the jaded killer I am, I have little imagination for anything else. I had to know.

I exited the area immediately. The police would be here soon enough. Hailing a cab from several streets away, I made for my apartment in the Makuhari apartment building {Author's note- real place that my editor Rain I love ya Rain! put in for me} for my sojourns in Tokyo. I own the top two floors. The upper floor is for residing, the lower for privacy and a protection buffer. Before the sun made its appearance on the large wall window on the east side, I was already in deep research on the Internet, coffee in hand. I had gotten her full name and address from the first night and that was all I had.

There was nothing amazing in her Department of Motor Vehicles record or telephone records aside from the long distance calls to relatives. Her credit card history was slightly more interesting. Too much credit, few late paid bills, nothing totally out of line, but still… Kagome Higurashi was 23 and was a managing editor of a specialized political/economical journal. She was listed in the Nexis database. I was impressed. She had written several articles on international espionage for her magazine. Now, _that_ was fascinating. She'd written about the drug lords of Columbia, the old spies of Eastern Europe. Her magazines coverage of the Cold War had been excellent and extensive. Her main bulk of work came from merging economies around the world- not the typical selection of an upper Tokyo tenant.

There was little in Nexis, or anyplace for that matter, on her romantic life. She was unmarried, paid her taxes on time, no police record, and her traveling seemed to be work involved. Nothing I found explained the body, but she had to have had something to do with it. Although, the reason was unlikely to be found anywhere but inside of her. 

While I was online I moved some money around, spreading my latest earnings along several offshore accounts and checked up on stock accounts. I decided I would have to get my car out of storage again. The rest of the research would be carried out in person.


End file.
